


The Bodyguard

by R0und_Robin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-26 02:20:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R0und_Robin/pseuds/R0und_Robin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Ned turned to watch Robb double check to make sure he had enough clips before he holstered his gun. If the Young Wolf was nervous, he didn't show it. His face was as placid as a frozen lake in winter. “Son, let me tell you what my father told me before my first assignment: Never let your client out of your sight. Never let your guard down. And never fall in love with your client.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>In the name of protection, Myrcella Baratheon had lived her entire life in the cages that her family had placed upon her; her freedom was nonexistent. So when she finally got the opportunity to break away, her father placed Robb Stark of Stark Securities as her new bodyguard without her knowledge, and that very same night she was attacked by a demon on the way home. The young Baratheon heiress finds herself once again placed under constant supervision and with the Christmas just around the corner, Myrcella was sure that her one chance at freedom had gone up in smoke. For everyone in the city knows that on the winter solstice the barrier between the spirit world and reality was at its weakest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the collaborative work of Gera, Jan, Maddie, Danielle, Emma, and Mari (we will also be joined by Bree in the next chapter). Please let us know what you think of the story so far. If you would like to be up to date with the latest chapters, you can follow us on our Tumblr account where you can send in questions, discuss plot theories, and chat with the writers of this story! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and we hope to see you in chapter 2! :D

Ned turned to watch Robb double check to make sure he had enough clips before he holstered his gun. If the Young Wolf was nervous, he didn’t show it. His face was as placid as a frozen lake in winter. “Son, let me tell you what my father told me before my first assignment: Never let your client out of your sight. Never let your guard down. And never fall in love with your client.”

Robb met his father’s gaze evenly as he slipped on his suit jacket letting the words filter in and engrave themselves in his mind. There were two personas he had one in which he was “Robb Stark”, the eldest son of Ned Stark and Catelyn Tully. His family was the most important thing to him and he would do whatever was possible to keep them safe. Even make the tough decisions that no one wanted to take responsibility for: the ones that would haunt the person long after the decision was made, that crept up in the darkness and reared its head behind closed eyes.

The second persona was the “Young Wolf”. It was a mask he created that helped him cope with the decisions that left a mar on his very soul. It helped him perfect his job as a bodyguard by allowing him to look through a logical point, emotions ceased to matter, and the instinct to survive became his cornerstone. His client becomes an extension of himself. Any threat toward his client, was a threat to himself. In this manner of thinking Robb does not let his client out of his sight and never lowers his guard. Falling in love was never issue nor a risk because it simply was not a factor that mattered to him when he was the Young Wolf.

They say the eyes was a window to one’s soul, but as Ned gazed into his son’s a chill went down his spine and worry clawed at his stomach. The Young Wolf was ready. “Robb,” He placed his hand on his shoulder. “Jon will be on standby in case you need back up.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“I hope not.” He knew Robb was more than capable of doing this job for Robert Baratheon and yet the feeling that something was coming haunted him. Ned knew he had a right to be worried, winter solstice was right around the corner. Even Benjen commented about the increase of demon activity on the Wall that had the Night’s Watch preparing for the worse. “Winter is coming and more than ever we must be on guard.”

 _The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives._  Robb thought as he nodded in understanding. For a moment he let the mask fall as he placed his hand on over his father’s and gave it a comfort squeeze. “I won’t fail you.”

“I don’t think that is possible.”

* * *

Robb watched from a distance as his client laughed at something one of her friends said. Her head was thrown back, her neck arched in the air revealing alabaster skin that begged to have lips caress it, and her laughter was melodious as it traveled through the air toward him. As if taunting him as it made him feel anything other than indifference. It demanded his attention, cracking into his mask and angering him. Never had a client gotten under his skin and she wasn’t even trying.

Her sun kissed hair glowed under the lampposts as she walked under the light they offered with her friends. A beacon in the dark of night, a target to be snatched and he knew his job had just gotten infinitely harder. Robb felt it in the air; the sudden drop in temperature and the hair on the back of his neck rose and saw it in the fog that slipped passed his lips when he exhaled. His heart pounded harder and faster against his ribs as adrenaline coursed through his veins and he knew they were no longer alone.

His gaze zeroed in on the dark figure that slid out of the alley a few feet in front of Myrcella and her friends. His feet slammed against the cement covering the distance between him and his client.  _A threat against my client is a threat against me._  A growl rumbled from deep inside his chest as a gasp escaped her when a claw reached for her throat. Robb slid right into the space between the demon and Myrcella, his left palm slammed against the wrist of the claw that had reached for her, his right curled into a fist as he brought it forward against the Dark Walker’s jaw. A sickening crunch echoed into the night.

The demon howled in pain as it stumbled back a few feet, out of the light the lamppost provided and into the shadows of the alley, it took a moment to compose it’s self, it’s breathing was heavy and distorted to the ear- almost as if it was crazed by disease or rather, a wild blood thirsty animal.

Myrcella could practically hear the rapid beats of her friends’ hearts as they all took a step back, creating space between themselves and the stranger who had jumped between herself and the ghoulish man who had reached for her neck. She had yet to see his face but from his physique Myrcella could only assume he was powerful, his shoulders were broad with lean muscle, his legs long and if that punch was anything to go by, his arms strong. His hair, from what she could tell from the dim lighting, was a copper-like red, not bright yet not dark enough to be considered crimson like the color of the dresses her mother favored so much. 

A snarl ripped her from her thoughts. Her nameless savior’s body tensed, and he took a cautious step back. A figure stepped from the shadows then and Myrcella held a hand to her mouth in fear at what she saw. Her friends screamed from behind her, all of them turning to run for their lives but Myrcella stayed put. Red eyes stared her down as he-no  _it_ \- approached. It’s mouth was comparable to that of a Shark’s, thousands of sharp knife-like teeth and soulless eyes that she is sure will haunt her dreams forevermore. 

"Get back, Myrcella." She didn’t stop to wonder how he knew her name, her body only obeyed his demand. She slowly inched away from them both, the monster only getting closer, a grin across it’s face as it neared. Myrcella wondered if it could smell her fear. 

In one quick movement the thing howled in rage as something was thrown into his chest. It pulled the dagger from it’s abdomen, making a show of bending it in it’s grasp before it let it fall to the ground with a _clang_. Before she could blink, the demon pounced on her red headed savior, a startled cry escaped from her lips as they both toppled onto the ground, the sound of growls filling the night air.

The growl was soon replaced with a yelp as with a strong, well placed kick to the chest, the monster was sent flying back into the brick covering of a building. Robb stood up and quickly sprang into action not allowing the demon a second of recovery before he slit the monster’s throat with his sword. Blood sprayed from his wound, coating Robb in it’s blood, and the demon clutched at his throat as if somehow hoping to pacify the bleeding. 

With one final swing of his sword the demon ceased to be and it’s demonic head rolled until it met the end of Robb’s black boots. 

Myrcella watched the head carefully, it’s eyes were still wide open and she half excepted it to blink at her or give her it’s monstrous grin. After a moment had passed and she was sure no such thing was going to happen, she lifted her eyes to the man who had done the beheading.

She was startled to see he had been staring at her, a(n) intent look in his blue eyes. She could now see his face and behind the blood that was speckled across his cheeks and forehead, she realized he was actually quite handsome.

He reminded her of the fairy tales her uncle Renly used to tell her, when her father was to busy with the matters uncle Stannis was always presenting to him, of handsome heroes who came to rescue beautiful damsel(s) in distress; stories filled with dragons and fairies and witches. All children stories really and although she was now much too old to be believing in such nonsense, she could not help but picture this man in armor, riding valiantly into battle.

 _Something is so familiar about him_ …

"Who are you?" Her voice was quieter than she would have liked and she could hear her mother’s voice in her head.  _Show strength, Myrcella. Never fear._

He took a step towards her, his sword still in hand and Myrcella unconsciously took one back. He stopped in his tracks, a frown formed on his lips as he sensed her discomfort. He slowly placed his sword back in it’s place at it’s hip, he wiped his now free hand on his pants before holding it to her.

"My name is Robb Stark," He paused,gathering what he wanted to say before continuing. "I’m here to protect you, Myrcella."

Myrcella blinked.

_He knows my name._

She stared down at his outstretched hand, bewildered. When she did not shake his hand, he lowered it back to his side. His hands might have been clean but his sleeves were still stained with blood.

“I don’t understand.”

_Do I want to understand?_

She lowered her gaze, her wide green eyes falling upon the corpse which lay between them. The head and those terrible teeth might have been gone, but the worst of it remained.  She wanted to kick it away or to run as her friends had done, but she couldn’t move. She was stuck, frozen in her place. Its blood was still warm as it seeped into the snow. The sight of it made her stomach churn uneasily, her lunch threatening to make a sudden reappearance.

“It’s… a long story.”

His eyes, which were so very blue, met hers the moment she looked up from the still corpse. She thought she saw the corner of his lip twitch, a hint at a buried sense of humour. Her eyes narrowed a fraction in a combination of suspicion and bewilderment. She didn’t see what was so amusing. It was almost Christmas. She had things to do and people to see. She did not have time for handsome strangers and headless bodies.

“Well…” She said, reaching down to gingerly pick up her handbag. She silently prayed that it hadn’t got blood on it. It would make explaining her day a difficult task, indeed. “It’s been – interesting, to say the least. I’ll be going now.”

Robb, with one hand still resting on the hilt of his sword, moved to block her path as she made to step around the body. She clucked her tongue in annoyance, telling herself she should have known it would be unlikely for her to escape  _that_ easily. When she moved again, he shadowed her movements. This time he stepped closer, his arm bumping against hers. A little unnerved by their sudden closeness, Myrcella narrowed her eyes and pushed against his chest with the palm of her hand. “Do I know you? Have we met before? If the answer is no, then step aside and leave me alone.”

He seemed awfully familiar, but Myrcella wouldn’t let herself dwell on that thought. Just as she refused to glance up into those blue, blue eyes once more.

“I’m here to protect you.” He repeated – unhelpfully, she might add.

With a small, irritated sigh, Myrcella took several steps back and turned around on her heel. After a beat, she heard him follow. She made about two steps before his fingers wrapped around her wrist. “I understand that you have questions, I do, but right now we need to get to safety. There are more where that one came from.”

Myrcella paused, glancing at him sharply.

“ _More?”_ She asked in a tight voice, bristling, and Robb nodded at once. His grip on her wrist tightened slightly, and ordinarily she would have snatched it from his grasp, but she sensed that the action was derived out of a strange form of comfort. “Why?”

“This is not the place.” He said. The way his eyes kept flickering around them, wary and watching, made her nervous. Suddenly she was the one who was shifting closer, feeling both afraid and oddly safe with this apparent stranger. “Do you have somewhere where we can go? I’ll answer your questions then, when I know you are safe.”

She searched her mind, frantic. She couldn’t go home. Tommen and her mother would be there and if there was any chance whatsoever of whatever she had just seen repeating itself, she would not allow for it to happen anywhere near her mother and brother. Joffrey was at home too, for Christmas, leaving his apartment empty. But the thought of being in her brother’s cave-like flat was not appealing, just as visiting one of her father’s townhouses wasn’t tempting either. They were for ‘work’, he said, but she knew better. But she had no choice it seemed, it was either Joffrey’s or her married father’s bachelor pads. “I – I suppose I know a place. My brother’s. It’s not far from here.”

“How far?” Robb asked, his eyes continuing to look around them in an increasingly worryingly way. He had her looking over her shoulder too, checking for monsters and demons and whatever the hell it was which had attacked her. She could still feel the sting of whatever it was around her neck. There would be a mark there, something which she was not sure she would be able to explain.

“That building over there.” She said, pointing. “It’s just around the corner -”

Without waiting for her to finish or for further explanation, Robb slung his around over her shoulder and urged her to hurry on. She stumbled slightly, surprised. As they walked, at a pace which asked too much of her heels, she caught a glimpse of their reflection in a shop window. To anyone passing by, they might have looked like a couple.

Moving at Robb’s pace, the walk to Joffrey’s was nothing at all. It seemed to take longer for the elevator to reach the top floor than it had taken for them to walk the four blocks there. The elevator music did nothing for her nerves, and neither did Robb, who stood silently beside her loading a gun with odd coloured bullets. He caught her looking at her as the elevator came to a stop at Joffrey’s penthouse apartment and she looked away, rolling her eyes, but with an obvious redness to her cheeks.

When the elevator doors sprung open with a shrill  _ding,_ they stepped out together. She fiddled around in her purse, knowing she had a key somewhere. Her mother had insisted that they all have a key in case of an emergency. Joffrey hadn’t been happy about that, that was for sure. She handed Robb the key once she found it, giving her time to step back and assess the situation. She was inviting a stranger into her brother’s apartment to answer questions about the person he had decapitated…

It was a first, if nothing else.

Except, he didn’t feel like a stranger, did he?

“I remember you.” She found herself saying. Robb looked at her over his shoulder as he pushed the door open, Joffrey’s dark apartment coming into view behind him.

Robb’s small, albeit slightly confused smile was cut short by a banging sound from within Joffrey’s apartment. They both stopped short, her hand seeking out his.

They weren’t alone. 

"I remember you" he was about to ask her where from, could she really remember him? The only time they had met she wasn’t even ten yet, a little doll of a girl with a blond mess of curls giggling with her little brother on a picnic his father had arranged. They hadn’t even spoken properly to each other, just enough to be polite. But she wasn’t a little girl anymore, and though he knew it was safer to keep his distance from her, the idea of her remembering him stirred something in him.

He didn’t get much time to think about it though. As soon as the door was closed, a sound from within the apartment brought back the young wolf, getting ready for another fight. He didn’t have time to think of her hand in his, only pulling her to stand behind him. The sound was getting louder, heavy footsteps coming their way, he pulled out his sword and waited. He could see it in the end of the dark hallway, a shadow taller and wider than him, but he didn’t flinch. He would protect his client with his life, there was no doubt about it. He lifted the sword and brought it down in a strong fast movement, roaring as he did so.

"Seven Hells!" His blade hit the side of a door frame as the shadow stumbled back with a curse. That gave him pause, he had never seen a demon curse, sometimes they’d speak but never like this. "Who’s there?!" He demanded, freeing his sword from the wood at pointing it at the stranger’s chest. "Who’s there?” there was no mistaking the irony in the husky voice “HA! I think I should be the one asking that when you’re the one breaking in!" The lights flickered on and he was taken aback by the man on the floor. He was indeed big, looking like the stereotype of a mean biker, the ugly scar across half of his head only making it worse.

He was about to argue with him when Myrcella moved, kneeling down beside the mean looking biker “Don’t hurt him, he’s a friend! Sandor I’m so, so sorry! Are you okay? Do you need help?” He couldn’t believe it, how was a girl like her friends with a guy like him? “It’s alright little princess, your boyfriend here isn’t as good as he thinks” he noticed her blush as she explained “he’s not my boyfriend, he’s…a friend…” The big guy rolled his eyes, clearly not believing her but not arguing either “I take it your brother doesn’t know you’re bringing friends to his apartment does he?” She stared at him wide eyed, opening her mouth to say something but he waved her off “Don’t worry girl, I’m just poking fun at you. I know you never come here, Hells I practically live here” he gave a deep chuckle, getting up and dusting off his jeans.

"Sandor please don’t tell Joff I was here, please!" She looked so small beside him  that it was almost comical. He gestured for her to calm down and follow him as he led them to the kitchen. He took a beer from the fridge before leaning against the counter to face them. "Now" he started, taking a long swing from the bottle before he continued "Why don’t you two start explaining what you’re doing here, who your friend is and why he’s covered in blood?"

"I was about to ask the same questions," Cella said, turning to glare at Robb (not too aggressively, mind).

But as she passed her eyes over him, her gaze caught on his wrist, where an elegant tattooed wolf-head was peeking from his sleeve.

“Stark,” she breathed, remembering a black-haired man who smiled rarely- but when he did, it was like the first snowdrop sprouting in spring, “You’re Ned’s son!”

“Y…yes,” Robb murmured.

“You’re Stark’s lad?” Sandor cut in, “Then that explains…”- he waved his hand at Robb- “This.”

“What?” argued Myrcella, “What does that explain?”

“I’m a… a…”

“He’s an angel,” cut in Sandor, smirking.

“Yes, and I was sent by my father to protect you,” Robb continued, moving to plant a broad hand firmly on her shoulder, “There are bad things coming for you, Myrcella, more evil than you can imagine.”

“What can be more evil than me, I’m already a demon,” she muttered, and Sandor stood, but Robb caught her eye, not letting her past his sharp angel hearing.

“I’ll be going then,” said Sandor, glancing at his phone for the time, “I won’t tell Joff you’re here, princess.”

Cella half-smiled at the nickname from her childhood, when her mother had insisted that she was the rightful Queen of Hell and had insisted the staff use her title accordingly (although even Cersei Lannister had not wanted to live in that wasteland, where nightmares danced in the corner of your eye).

“Thanks, Sandor,” she said, standing to let him out. Once they were out of earshot of Robb, Sandor grasped her arm.

“Stay safe, princess,” he whispered, “Remember that it ain’t all black and white: hell ain’t all bad and heaven ain’t all good.”

And with that, he was gone.

Cella put the kettle on, and for some time she just sat opposite Robb in silence whilst he checked his weapons.

She glanced at Robb, wondering if he shared any features with his late aunt. She had been stolen by the Prince of Hell, swept away in the night: but Cella couldn’t help wondering if she had struggled or if she had been content to cling to Rhaegar Targaryen’s neck, eager for excitement or rebellion- or maybe just someone who loved her. It wasn’t so hard to change sides. It wasn’t so hard to fall.

At that moment, Robb looked up.

“So, you know about demons then?”

Myrcella nodded, staring at one spot of demon blood that the man in front of her had missed on the side of his neck, just under the curve of his jaw, a few inches beneath his ear. The spot was constantly reminding her that the events of the evening had actually transpired, thus making all of this not some twisted nightmare.

It was hard not to know about demons and angels; as if they were bedtime stories, she grown up on the history of her family and those families whose lives were directly effected by her family’s actions. Often times, Myrcella found herself wondering if maybe she was living a fairy-tale, all those fantastical stories that were too unbelievable to have actually come pass in the real world. But then she would remember the scars that were left behind as a result of those wars.

And those scars were  _very_  much real.

She tore her eyes from Ned’s son to see the slew of weapons on the table and she couldn’t help but wonder if the Starks ever regretted befriending the Baratheons, with everything that happened to them as a result of that bond. ‘ _That’s nothing more than wistful hopes._ ’

And, with the impending danger that seemed to be closing in on them, they did not have the luxury to think about what-ifs…

“– so I don’t have to tell you why it’s  _imperative_  that you listen to me when I’m actually giving you valuable information that would most likely save your life if you were attacked!” Robb’s voice was slightly tinged with irritation as Myrcella snapped back to the conversation at hand.

This caused the young Baratheon to look slightly ashamed but only for a moment before her Lannister pride rear itself in the form of a sneer. “Well, it wouldn’t matter, now would it, considering that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

Robb grounded his teeth together as he tried to calm his growing temper. “It is true that I will be protecting you from now on as vigilantly as I possible can, but there will be times where I won’t be with you. I’m sure you would prefer some sense of privacy.”

“Oh, I get a choice now? And here I thought I was only allowed to accept your presence-”

“I’m doing this for your safety! Your father had entrusted me to keep you-”

“What does my father have to do with any of this?”

Robb heaved a great sigh before he looked up to lock eyes with her, “Do you want the long version or the short version?”

“The shortest version.” Myrcella replied tersely.

Robb nodded before choosing his words carefully. Finally he started with, “Long ago-”

“I said the  _shortest_.”

The man across from her rolled his eyes before saying, “You need some background to understand his motives.”

“He’s a father! What other motives could he have?”

Robb shook his head, his eyes were clouded with worry. “You can’t possibly understand how deep this runs. Without knowledge of the history – the  _wars_  – that had taken place and who was on the winning side and, perhaps more importantly, who was on the loosing side, there is _no_   _way_  you could begin understand how vital it is that you stay alive. If anything were to happen to you, the very fabric of the three dimensions could be ripped apart. Your father understands this. As much as he wants to keep you safe because he is your father, he also understands that if you were to get hurt or taken, this could be a declaration of war.”

Myrcella got up and walked over towards the cabinet that held the cups and it wasn’t until she picked up a mug that she realized how badly her hands were shaking. “I don’t know… a successful attack or not… tonight felt like a declaration of war already.”

She turned back to see Robb’s expression and knew that she was right. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the support that you've all been giving us throughout the first chapter! The response has been tremendously positive! Thank you a million times over for that. We cannot stress enough how much your support fuels out drive to create this story for you all to enjoy. We hope to have your continued support.

_She turned back to see Robb’s expression and knew that she was right._

Myrcella sat quietly in the living room of Joffrey’s apartment, clutching a crisp white cup of coffee in her hands, allowing the heat from the drink to sooth her trying nerves. She could faintly hear Robb move around in the kitchen, the sound of pots and pans ringing in her ears and before long the scent of something delicious, that any other day would have had Myrcella foaming at the mouth, invaded her senses. But not today. Her mind too preoccupied for food. 

_An act of war…_

Myrcella took a drink from her cup, immediately flinching as her tongue started to ache from the scolding heat. She wondered what her family was doing at this very moment. There was no doubt in her mind that her mother and grandfather would start a nation-wide search for her soon, if they had not already, and the idea of the two finding her in Joffrey’s apartment,  _alone_ with Robb Stark of all people, made her nervous beyond compare.  _Gods be good_ , Tommen would laugh himself si-

 _Tommen_.

"Robb!"

Robb rushed out of the kitchen, his hand already reaching for the gun at his waist before he paused, taking in the sight of Myrcella’s distraught face but no enemy in sight.

"Robb!" Myrcella was panicking, Her eyes wide and looking in every direction before she reached for her coat, ignoring the blood stains that were speckled around the bottom half as she pulled it on with haste. "We have to go! We have to go now!"

"What?" He asked. Myrcella didn’t answer, already heading for the door. Robb stepped into her path, blocking her exit. He forcefully grabbed her shoulders, careful not to hurt her, and pinned her against the nearest wall. She started to struggle against him, her hands beating against his chest and Robb made soothing sounds in an attempt to calm her.

"Myrcella," He grasped her face in his hands, leaning down and pressing close until his forehead was against her’s. "Myrcella, calm down. Calm down. Tell me what’s wrong."

"My brother." She clutched on to the sleeves of his shirt, bundling the cotton in her hands. "Tommen! We have to find Tommen! What if something has happened? Or something is going to happen? I have to know he’s alright! Someone has to protect him!"

Robb pulled her into his arms, her form trembling against his own as her soft cries filled the silence. He couldn’t help but sympathize with her, he had siblings of his own and he would die protecting them. It seems that sentiment was something he and the princess shared in common. 

"I promise you, he is safe. He is in good hands."

She nodded in what he hoped was understanding, her breathing a little more relaxed but Robb could see the worry as clear as day in her eyes. 

"I need to see him," She looked up at him, finally realizing just how close they were but she chose to play ignorance. Her grip tightened on Robb’s arms, not painfully so but enough to send a message, a  _plead_. “Please, take me to him.”

It was a fool’s request, one he should have instantly dismissed regardless of how he or the princess felt about the matter. He had to keep her safe, risking his life or anyone else’s if the occasion arose. Their worlds were at the brink of war and here he was being swayed by a pair of bright green eyes and a pretty face.  

_Father didn’t prepare me for this._

"I will."

* * *

Robb drove Joffrey’s car, which was probably for the best seeing as Cella couldn’t stop shaking at the thought of a demon attacking her little brother.

 

 

They pulled up outside a shady-looking apartment block after a twenty-minute journey in tense silence, and Myrcella froze up.

“I can’t,” she said, “What can I even say?”

“Nothing, he’s not at risk,” Robb said bluntly, but then Cella turned to look at him, and her wide eyes reminded him of Sansa, when she was little and had a spider in her room and would come to him to beg him to get rid of it: frightened but with no fear that he wouldn’t make everything okay again.

He reached across and placed a warm hand on her shoulder. “Just tell him you love him, tell him not to worry, and let’s try and get in there first.”

Robb hovered close to her as they walked into the building, constantly checking over his shoulder and in all directions, with a thick arm hovering around her back, not quite touching her. At the door, he reached across and pressed the buzzer for Flat 7c. A fuzzy male voice came back, saying, “yes?”

“Winter is coming,” Robb said, and Cella found herself smiling shyly at the emergence of a Northern accent. The door clicked open. “It’s a password,” Robb murmured as he held the door open for her.

“Thanks,” she said, in reference to the door.

Robb went over to the lift, scanning the panorama. His thumb hovered over the button.

“No!” Cella said, grabbing his arm back.

“What?”

She pointed at the button. A needle was sticking out of it, poised to stab the digit of anyone who dared to press it.

“Good spot,” Robb said, leaning in to peer at the needle, “It has something on it. Probably tranquilizer.”

“Let’s take the stairs,” she suggested, and he nodded.

Flat 7c was only identifiable by the light patch in the shape of its name where there had once been a metal sign, judging by the rust marks. Robb rapped his knuckles on the door.

“Yes?” came a voice- not the same one as had appeared on the intercom, this was a woman.

“The North Remembers,” he said clearly, and the door clicked open, revealing a tall woman, even taller than Robb, with messy brown hair thrown up in a bun. She was dressed practically in a black sweatshirt and jeans, and she was holding a large gun in their faces.

“What are you doing here, Young Wolf?” she said, frowning and dropping the gun down to her side.

“Osha, this is Myrcella,” he said, “She’s come to see her brother.”

The woman eyed her suspiciously for a moment, but she let them pass.

Catching sight of herself in the mirror by the door, Myrcella grimaced. Her hair was a mess and her mascara had run a little, leaving little smudges of black at the corners of her eyes.

Tommen would know something was wrong the moment he saw her face - but he could not know. She would not have her brother know what it was to see what she had seen that day, and know all the awful things she had been hiding to herself for so long. A slip of her father’s tongue and her mother’s hurried explanations had told her all she knew, and it was unwanted knowledge which she had kept locked up inside of her for years.

Tommen did not yet know what a demon was, and that was how she would have it remain.

“Excuse me.” She murmured as she stepped around the woman, nervous of the shotgun she loosely held in her right hand.

“He’s in the bedroom.” The woman, Osha, called out as she passed, pointing to the closed door nearest them. Myrcella moved to it determinedly. She turned the door handle and it swung open, creaking. There, sat on a stained, faded rug, was her brother. He looked up, surprised, and his face broke out in a wide, beaming smile at the sight of her. She breathed a breath of relief and sunk down to her knees before him. Her hands quickly found their way to him, brushing the soft, golden hair off of his forehead, frantically checking for any bumps and bruises.

“Are you alright?” She asked, and Tommen laughed as though she had asked him a silly question.

“Of course.” He said, still laughing a little. As she drew away from him, fingertips grazing across the tops of his flushed cheeks, a little pucker started to form between Tommen’s pale brows. “Do you know how long I’ll be here? I’m bored. I miss Ser Pounce.”

 “Not long.” She smiled, fondly touching her brother’s cheek.

“Will you be here too?” Tommen asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I like Osha. I like her more than the last nanny. But I don’t need her. Why do I need a nanny when I have you?” Tommen’s fingers threaded through hers, and he looked at her with such a sweet, genuine expression that she was not sure how she would be able to lie to him. How could she lie to him when, never, not once, had he ever lied to her?

“I’m sorry. I would stay with you, but I promised mother I would come with her.” She murmured, looking to the greying carpet so she would not have to face looking him in the eye. “Do you remember father’s friend, Ned Stark? No – no, of course not, you were too little to… anyway, father has to visit him about some business. And it’ll be very cold up there, so it’s best you stay here so you don’t come down with the flu again… We’ll be back for Christmas, of course, but in the meantime, it’s best you stay here. Osha will take good care of you, and I’ll talk to her about bringing the kittens around for a visit, alright?”

Tommen smiled at that, his grip on her hand tightening.

Hearing footsteps behind them, she heard someone clear their throat and knew at once that it would be Robb. She felt the harsh sting of tears as she tore her gaze from Tommen and glanced over her shoulder to meet Robb’s worried expression. She felt a lump forming hard in her throat and she knew she could not stay. She would not have her brother see her cry.

“Tommen, I have to go. I love you.” Hurriedly, she pulled her hand from his and pressed a final, parting kiss to his brow. As she quickly pushed herself onto her feet and caught a glimpse of Tommen’s smile before she turned away, she told herself that it was for the best. To keep him safe, she would have to stay as far from him as she could. If war was truly being declared, she would be damned if she allowed her brother to be anywhere near it.

Robb’s hand found its way to her shoulder as they left the room. His sympathetic expression made her fight against her tears all the more difficult.

“Myrcella…” Robb began, and she made herself look at him, trying her hardest to be brave. She did not understand his expression, as it seemed caught somewhere between hesitant and expectant. “I promise you your brother will be safe. But right now, I need to know… I need to know that you’re ready.”

“Ready for what?” She asked, though she both knew and feared the answer.

' _Ready to leave everything you love behind. Ready to forget your loved ones. Ready to put your safety above all others._ ' There were many ways Robb could answer her question. Myrcella Baratheon, as brave and beautiful she may be, was only a pawn on the game between demons and angels and their kings. Supposedly she was of demonic origin, like all other Lannisters and Baratheons, but the Gods seemed to have their own personal plans. While her older brother was demonic through and through, it was different with her, ever since the day she had been born there was no doubt the princess was different. Not quite angel and not quite demon blood in her, but not entirely human yet. In the words of her uncle, she was her mother’s beauty without her nature, according to his father; she was simply innocent, clean blood as he said. For that alone, she was a precious…for being a princess, she was the most valuable pawn.

”I need to know you’re ready to go.” He asked her, his tone gentle yet serious. “There’s a safe place waiting for you in the north and once we leave for that destination there’ll be no turning back. I can’t promise when we’ll see any member of your family or friends and so I need you to be ready, because I need to get you there.” They would need her on the war and she needed to be close to the Wall, but not too close or she’d be in danger.  ”Are you ready?” he asked again.

Myrcella looked back to the door of the room she knew her brother was playing in. Her mother had told her this day might come, there was something in her blood her mother had said, she never felt any different than anyone else, but perhaps her mother was right, perhaps she was different. “I’m ready,” she nodded, looking back at Robb. “When do we leave?”

"Right away." He replied with a reassuring nod before guiding her out and away from the last comfortable place they’d see in days.

* * *

“I warned you not to let her go.” Cersei hissed as she glared Robert. “Wasn’t it enough that I had to let Tommen go into hiding so he would be safe?”

“She wanted a night out.” Robert rubbed his temples to calm the growing migraine. “It was the least I could do for her especially when we would be forced to go on lockdown in three days.” Winter solstice was just around the corner and just like all the other years Robert would gather his children back in Storm’s End for their protection, but this year was different. Ned had come to warn him about the activity at the Wall was increasing. The Night’s Watch was pushing back the demons that dared to climb over the Wall, but a few had escaped. He had also come to warn him about the attack on Myrcella. “You heard the man Cersei. Myrcella is safe. The Young Wolf was able to protect her.”

“She wouldn’t need protecting if you forbade her from going out!”

 “Damn it all to the seven hells!” Robert roared as he stood up and slammed his fist against the table. “There’s no pleasing you! You say I’m too strict and when I finally give her some freedom you give me shit!”

“It’s not my fault you have horrible timing on choosing when to be a good father!”

“I’ll have you eat those words woman.” Electricity licked his palm and traveled up his arm. His eyes going pith black.

Joffrey, who had been sitting beside his mother silently, gulped and glanced at his mother to see her eyes had also gone pitch black. Fire licked her right hand as she held her husband’s gaze.

“Robert.” Ned said in warning glancing between the couple. “The last thing we need is for the both of you to burn Storm’s End to the ground.”

Robert let out a booming laugh, his eyes returning to a normal blue. “May the Old Gods and New forbid that from ever happening.” He glanced at his wife to see she had regained her composure, an amused smile played upon her lips. “Don’t you worry my Queen, you’ll get to sink your claws into those that would threaten our cubs if what Ned says is true.”

“If attacking Myrcella is not a sign for them wanting war, then I don’t know what is.” Joffrey muttered smirking.

“Already thirsting for a battle,” Robert looked at Ned highly amused, “the Baratheon blood is strong in this one.” Ned nodded but did not comment as he kept a close eye on Joffrey. “Boy, tonight you will become a man that will make his father proud.”

“You can’t possibly mean to take him with you.” Cersei clasped Joffrey’s wrist.

 

“The boy can fight and it’s about time he puts the skills to use.” He looked at his eldest son critically. “If I fall you will be the next to rise after me. Balon and the other families from Hell will come for you.” When he saw Joffrey visibly pale, Robert grinned. “Good thing I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. Armor yourself to the teeth we are heading out in fifteen minutes.” He glanced at his wife. “If you somehow get ahold of Jaime tell him I’m already heading the Wall and expect him there.”

* * *

“Robert,” Ned glanced at his surrounding keeping a close eye on particularly dark corners when he saw them expanding, “we should have driven there.” He felt Ice tremble in his back signaling something dark was coming and the hairs on the back of his neck.

“Come on Ned, I haven’t had a good fight since Balon’s rebellion.” Robert reached behind him as he unsheathed Blackfury. “I really need a warm up before diving into where the fight is the thickest.” The blade had blue and black ripples through the steel and gave an eerie glow as the lampposts around them flickered before giving out.

Joffrey stepped closer to his father as he pulled out his own sword and heard the whispers from the darkness.

**_“A king for a king.”_ **

“Do you hear that?” He asked the older men. The whispers were becoming louder.

**“ _A prince for a prince.”_**   

Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach.

“Now is not the time to hesitate.” Ned warned him when Robert remained silent. “If you see one coming—”

“Cut right through them.” Joffrey tightened his grip on the hilt. “They’re coming.” He felt it in his very being.

Dark figures began to form from the shadows; their crimson eyes stared at them.

“Fucking Dark Walkers…” Robert nudged Joffrey’s shoulder not taking his eyes off the enemy. “Whatever you do, don’t let them touch you.” Before he could explain they began to shout.

**_“A king for king! A prince for a prince!”_ **

 The first one came at Joffrey and Robert easily disposed of it by severing its head. He spun to his left buried the sword into another’s throat and then slammed his foot against the chest of another that tried to sneak up on him.

 Ned ducked left and right as he unsheathed Ice. The blade sang a haunted melody as it was swung and cut through the Dark Walkers effortlessly.

Joffrey came out of his shock and forced himself to move. When the another Dark Walker came at him he was ready this time. His blade cut through it seamlessly. His body moved in a familiar dance that had been ingrained into him by his grandfather, uncle, and father. His father’s booming laughter had him grinning, but it soon melted away when he saw the dark claws in the corner of his eye before they clapped onto his shoulder. His vision darkened and pain coursed through him. Now he understood why his father said not to let them touch him. Screams echoed in his mind. His mouth fell open letting out a blood curling scream.

“Joffrey!”

“Robert, watch out!”

The screams stopped and the pain receded leaving him a trembling mess on his knees. Joffrey looked up to see his father standing in front of him.

“You idiot.” Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. “I told you not to let them touch you.”

“Father…” he whispered when he saw the black blade protruding from his stomach

“Where the hell is Clegane when you need him?” Robert grabbed the blade in his hands not allowing the Dark Walker to pull it out. “Get him out of here Ned.”

It was then Joffery felt Ned’s presence behind him. The Dark Walkers were closing in on them. “No, were not leaving without you.” Joffrey struggled against Ned’s hold. “Let me go!”

_I was a dead man the moment I took Rhaegar Targaryen’s life._ Robert thought as he watched through half lidded eyes Ned drag Joffrey out of the fray. His hands grasped the blade, electricity licked his palms. “Let it begin.” A smirk graced his lips.

Joffrey watched in horror as thunder roared through the night and a pulse of electricity consumed his father and the Dark Walkers that surrounded him. The pulse became a pillar of electric light that shot to the heavens for all of Westeros to see.

* * *

Robb and Myrcella were exiting the building when they saw the pillar of light. Dread pooled in the pit of her stomach at the sight of it. Something wasn’t right. “What is that?” she found herself asking. 

“That’s the beginning,” Robb answered cryptically placing his hand on the small of her back and giving her a soft nudge forward, “Come on, we’ve got to go now.”

They climbed into black utility vehicle that was parked where Joffrey’s car was. “Where’s my brother’s car?”

“It doesn’t matter. Consider this our permanent mode of transportation from now on.”

Aside from the fact that it looked brand spanking new, the SUV was nondescript in every way; there must have been a thousand cars just in the city alone that looked just like this car, which made their goal of blending in and disappearing into the night seem very plausible.

“Where are we going exactly? You understand that I have classes this coming Monday, right?” Myrcella asked, clicking her seat-belt into place.

“The less you know, the better. Just know that you’re going somewhere safe.” Robb emphasized as the car pulled away from the curb and into the flow of traffic.

“And my classes?” Myrcella demanded.

Robb shot her a confused look. “All your classes are online, aren’t they? I was told that your father made sure to convince you to take only online classes this semester.”

“He did but how do  _you_  know that…?” Then everything clicked into place like pieces of a puzzle. Myrcella stared at the man next to her, completely gobsmacked. “How long have… how long had this been planned for?” She whispered.

Yet, if he answered her, Myrcella couldn’t hear him because the chaotic pounding of her heart enveloped all of her other senses.

In an instant, she felt her world come crashing down on her all at once. Her father’s involvement her class choices, her mother’s distant and anxious demeanor, Joffrey’s abrupt leave from college, and Tommen’s early departure to “summer camp” (when in actuality he was being taken to a safe house) – all of it had been premeditated. Everything was leading up to this get-away plan.

“Whose idea was it?”

Robb fished out his phone from his pocket. “Your uncle Tyrion’s.”

Myrcella could hardly believe her ears. Her uncle Tyrion was one of her favorite uncles. He was smart and funny and he would constantly give her books to read ever since she could remember. Her love for reading could be said to have stemmed from a combination of Tywin Lannister’s influence and Tyrion Lannister’s hand-picked library of “good reads”.

From her fog of inclement thoughts, heavy with betrayal, the phone that Robb handed her rang. She pushed through the cloud of her distraught and picked up the phone without thought, “Hello?”

“Myrcella? It’s your Uncle Tyrion.”

‘ _Speak of the devil_ ,’ Myrcella thought listlessly. “Yes, Uncle Tyrion?”

His voice was clipped and devoid of its usual playful nature. This was Tyrion Lannister’s all-business voice. “Now, before you say anything, I’m going to assume that Robb Stark has told you the bare minimum of what you need to know. Am I right?”

Myrcella nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. That car you’re in has a clean serial number and license plate so you should have no trouble travelling at all, as long as the Young Wolf keeps tank under 80. Look in the glove compartment of the SUV. There should be a black packet with your new identity in it. Passports, drivers license, identification card, background information, family history, social security card. Study it, memorize it. For the time being, you are going to have to disappear; it’s not safe in King’s Landing anymore. There’s a war coming, Myrcella, and the only safe place for you is far, far away from here. Just consult the packet.”

Myrcella took out the ebony packet labeled “ _Cecelia Stark_ ”.

“What does this mean, Uncle Tyrion?”

Tyrion tried to leave his voice devoid of all emotion but just a small amount of smugness slipped through his near perfect persona.“It means, you will be going north as Robb Stark’s new wife. Don’t worry about corroborating your back story; it’s all in the packet.”

For the rest of the ride out of the city, Myrcella couldn’t bring herself to look at Robb. Why would he do all this for someone he barely knew. Even if Robert and Ned were best friends, Myrcella hadn’t seen Robb since the summer of her freshmen year in high school, before he went off to college. Now, it must have been nearly 8 years since then. Why would he sacrifice all of this for her? Even if this was only temporary, Robb and the Starks were welcoming Myrcella into their home and family. They shouldn’t have to do that, go through all of that for their father’s best friend’s daughter.

When they stopped in at a gas station to fill up, she noticed that Robb had left his keys in the ignition. Dangling from the key ring were two key chains: one was an animal’s tail (possibly a fox or a wolf) and the other was of a large fish with the words “Family, Duty, Honor” engraved beneath it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so... the plot thickens! :D Thank you so much once again to everyone who is subscribed to this ficlet of ours. We do hope you enjoy this chapter; we are slowly making our way to the meat of the story now. Thanks for all the love and kudos, see you in chapter 4! ^_^

They were back on the road for about twenty minutes when the first signs that something was wrong show up right on their windshield.

At first it seemed like nothing. It seemed like rain.

And then Myrcella screamed.

His hands jolted in shock and the car lurched, swerving haphazardly across the lines of the road. As he quickly righted the vehicle, his gaze sharply turned on Myrcella and he saw that she was staring ahead, eyes wide, mouth ajar in shock.

That was when he saw the windshield.

He slammed his foot on the brakes and the car jerked to an abrupt stop.

The clouds had blackened in mere minutes and the light splatters of rain had turned into a shower of crimson. Blood poured from the Heavens down upon them, and after some time, he thought he heard Myrcella drag in a shaky breath. Her knuckles were white as she gripped tightly onto the sides of her chair. “Did we hit something?” She whispered, her wide eyes meeting his. “Or  _someone_? _”_

“No,” He said, concentrating on making himself sound as calm as possible, “we didn’t hit anything.” He glanced back at the windscreen, watching at the wipers pitifully attempt to wash away the blood which was pouring down the glass. “It’s blood.”

“But why –?” She began to ask, then grew abruptly silent. Myrcella turned away from him, her hands clasped together nervously as she stared at the smears of blood the window wipers were making across the windscreen.

He could not say, not without worrying her, but he knew exactly what it was. And it was just the beginning. Blood rain - ‘ _it always seems bad, but what comes next is far worse_ ’, his uncle Benjen would always say. Robb had never seen it before, had never truly understood, and he knew he did not wish to ever seen it again.

He did not know, though, what it meant. It meant nothing good, he knew that at least. If only he could call his father, he thought as he lifted his foot off of the brakes and began to drive once more. His father would know what to do, but he couldn’t call him. He had insisted on radio silence until he and Myrcella had reached the North.

As the blood rain eased up and left little more than a hint of crimson to the windscreen, his phone rang. The sudden sound startled him and he took his hand off of the wheel to feel for it in his pocket, but it wasn’t there. Of course it wasn’t, Myrcella still had his phone. Silently, she lifted it off of her lap and stared down at the screen as if it were a foreign object. She lifted it to her ear and answered uneasily.

“Hello? Hel –” She stopped. Her eyes, wide once more, met his and all the color in her cheeks seemed to drain away.  _Oh Gods,_ was all he could think,  _what next?_ “ _Joffrey_?Is that you? What – what is it?”

Hearing from her older brother was perhaps an even worse sign than seeing blood rain. Robb’s foot eased off of the accelerator and he pulled the car over, deciding the dark, winding roads deserved more than half his attention if he wanted to get them up North alive. “Joffrey, slow down, please! I – I can’t hear you. What about father? What -”

Myrcella lowered the phone from her ear and she turned to him slowly, her worried expression transitioning into a frown. “It went dead… I don’t know what he was going to say, but he said – he said –”

“What did he say?” He urged, reaching across to grasp her hands in his. She was as cold as ice. “Myrcella, tell me. What did he say?”

“He said something about my father – and he sounded… different. I barely even recognized his voice…” Very slowly, she slid her hands away from his. She turned away, but he could see her face reflected in the car window. She was crying, he realized. She was crying, and she was hiding that from him. For some reason, it troubled him far more than he sensed it should have.

* * *

Renly watched as the golden beam that had soared into sky what felt like only minutes before, slowly start to fade away, a piece of himself fading away with it. When it was finally gone and the sky once more returned to it’s dreary gray, Renly hung his head.

_Goodbye brother._

It was only hours later, the crimson blood now gone from the clouds that he heard the strong knock of someone at his door. He took a moment to compose himself before speaking. “Come in.”

Jon Snow walked silently into the room, dressed completely in black from the tips of his hair to the heel of his boots and his pure white wolf trailing silently behind him. They made a pair the two of them, both as dark and as quiet as death itself.  _Perhaps they are here to damn my soul_ , Renly mused in spite of himself.

"Snow, to whom do I owe the pleasure?" Renly chuckled, his famous smile in place. 

"I am not here for pleasantries." 

"You folk never truly are, always so deadly serious."

Jon’s eyes narrowed at the obvious jibe but he ignored the urge to retaliate, his father had given him a duty and he shall complete it just as what was expected of him. 

"Your brother is dead. His heir is with the queen and the youngest is under our protection. I must evacuate you to-"

"What about my niece.. What of Myrcella?" Renly interrupted, his smile now replaced by stern lips and all trace of amusement gone from his eyes.

Jon contemplated his answer. He knew that Robb had to be on his way to the North with the princess by now, but his exact location he was unsure of. 

"She is safe. She is due North."

"You shall take me to her then."

Jon shook his head. “I am to take you to High Garden, where your allies lie.The Tyrells await your arrival.”

Renly ignored the stern faced Stark as he walked passed him. “However you shall take me North, where Myrcella is in need of me.”

* * *

The ride was silent as Myrcella continued to gaze out the window, nothing but a vast amount of snow covered plains and mountains to watch as they traveled. Her eyes were glazed over as she was lost deep in thought,  _Gods please let my family be safe._

"Myrcella."

"Hmm..," Myrcella turned to Robb, taking in his profile as he drove, the red of his hair, the curve of his nose and the pink of his lips.

"I am sorry."

Myrcella shook her head, tears threatening to fall from his words. “Please don’t talk like that, as if you already know that he is dead.”

"Myrcella-"

"Please Robb," Myrcella turned to him fully, her green eyes wide with un-shed tears. Robb felt his heart hurt for the girl beside him, to lose someone you love was as if losing yourself. 

He allowed one hand to move from the wheel and hold on to hers, the heat from his hand warming the chill of her own and Myrcella found herself grateful for the comfort.

"I understand."

* * *

Cersei stared at a point on the wall, the cup of wine on her hand forgotten as she sat deep in thought. She had never loved her husband, their marriage had been farce  in many ways, but one thing they had have in common, the wish to protect their children. To know Robert had died while protecting Joffrey had made her rethink her judgement of him. In the later years she had started to think him weak and cowardly, but his last act had made her respect him in death more than she ever had in life.

To protect their children, many times that had been the only thing keeping them tied to each other. The first time it had become clear had been during her second pregnancy. His friend, Ned Stark had come to them, bringing that old hag they called a nanny with them. Cersei knew old women, but that crone was a mummy in comparison. Joffrey had been scared of her she remembered, but then again he was always suspicious of people he was unfamiliar with.

The old lady had gestured for the Stark to stop helping her, and walked up to them leaning on her wooden crane. She had stopped right in front of her, slowly pointing a finger to her belly and giving a gentle smile before speaking in a voice calm and dry “This child, she’ll be a lovely child. I have seen so in my dreams and so it is. But that is not all, she’ll have it in her blood, magic ancient and forgotten, the power to achieve what a thousand souls cannot. Take care of her, she’ll be necessary, her path is already waiting before her.” and then she smiled again, but there was pity in her gaze now.

Cersei had almost lost it, she had gotten up then curse the woman away from their home but Robert had stopped her, and with the help of his friend and his friend’s wife they had managed to calm her. From that day onward it had always been just a matter of time, a count down to when her precious daughter would be used as a tool. Cersei would gladly slit the throat of any who tried to hurt her little girl, but her husband’s death had been unexpected, and it had brought a new dread to her heart.

"Are you sure she needs to come here?" she turned to her brother in law, asking not for the first time if it was truly necessary that her daughter experience this environment. Stannis looked at her from where he towered of a map on the table, his gaze cold and hard as stone, not a single tinge on mourning for his brother in his eyes. "Yes, it is." he turned then to his priestess who stood with her back to them, gaze fixed on the fire in the hearth "Lady Melisandre, has the message from the gods changed?" the woman in question turned slowly to them, her eyes glazed for a moment and a brighter shade of red than usual, she blinked for a moment, focusing back on the people around the room "The message is clear" she started, voice smooth as velvet "The girl must come north, as far north as possible." No one asked again, all eyes that had turned to look at her focusing back on what they had been doing. "Then may the gods watch over us" Cersei muttered from her seat, draining her cup and wondering if their gods even really existed.

* * *

They stopped for the night in a dodgy motel where Robb asked for a twin room and paid in cash. He twirled the key absentmindedly around his finger whilst she followed him to room 13.

“Must be an omen,” she said, smiling.

“What?” Robb sounded concerned.

“The room number,” she clarified, but he still looked puzzled, “Blood rain? Room 13? This is like a crappy horror film.”

“Well, I’m glad you can joke,” he said sourly. Cella rolled her eyes.

The room was sparse but clean, with two single beds pushed together which Robb swiftly parted.

“Window or wall?” he asked. Cella shrugged, so he flopped down on the bed nearest the window, and she took what she was given.

Cella took a towel from the bed and stood for a moment, realizing she had no clean clothes. When Robb looked up at her, she pointed this out. He reached into his rucksack and pulled out some jeans and a furry jumper, a little toiletry set and… With some fumbling, clean underwear. She took the bra from where it dangled in his fingers. For such a hot guy, he was terrifically awkward around women.

“How did you know my size?” she said, smirking.

Robb went bright red and muttered something about her mother passing on instructions.

Cella went for a shower, and when she came back to the room, Robb was already asleep. She towel-dried her hair, and then as soon as her head hit the pillow she fell asleep.

* * *

It was still dark when he came to, just the faint orange light of the street lamps coming through the thin curtains lighting the room. He rolled over, and realized what had woken him.

Myrcella was sat up in her bed, poker-straight, with her eyes wide open but blank, staring viciously through the wall.

And she was chanting, her lips barely moving but a clear speaking voice coming out, reciting words in a language Robb didn’t understand with a conviction that he had never heard in a human voice before.

He crept quietly over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Myrcella?” he said, and her eyes snapped to his instantly, back to their normal intelligence but confused.

“Robb? What’s wrong?” she said, blinking.

Robb was silent for a long minute, his hand still heavy on her shoulder. Concern filled her eyes.

“You… you’re not human.”

She shot him a look of incredulity. “Come now, Robb, there’s no need to be nasty.” Myrcella joked as she pulled the covers of the bed up to her neck for some semblance of modesty.

Robb’s eyes narrowed, “I didn’t mean it like that. You were-” he hesitated before gingerly sitting on the edge of her bed, keeping a respectable enough distance so not to offend her in anyway while he tried to figure out what had taken over his “client”, “Do you - do you remember what you just said?”

“What do you mean by that?” Myrcella muttered, her fingers anxiously weaving themselves into the frayed edges of the beat up duvet.

“I mean,” Robb thought long and hard for a moment. He didn’t want to frighten her (especially since he found out that when ever she looked scared he had the unnerving urge to hold her until she felt safe again) so he chose his words as carefully as possible. “Did you ever take Latin as an elective?”

The awkward silence permeated the small motel room, leaving Robb’s stomach queasy. Myrcella blinked twice before answering very slowly, so that there would be no stipulation as to what her response was, “No.”

Robb nodded. It was not the answer he was hoping for and it made the orange tint of the street lamps outside their room look all the more sickly.

Knowing that he wasn’t going to get anymore sleep that night, he proceeded to walk over to his bag which easily accessible under his bed and pulled out his cleaning kit and his two handguns. Walking over to the small dining table, he began to set out his cleaning supplies.

“So… we're _not_  going to talk about why you prompted me on my academic electives?” Myrcella asked.

“No.” Robb’s answer demanded finality on the subject but Myrcella (being Myrcella) did not allow it.

“Why did you ask me whether I’ve taken Latin, Robb?”

Robb sighed before he decidedly ignored the question entirely and proceeded to disassemble the glock in front of him.

Myrcella huffed in frustration before wrapped herself up in the duvet and shuffled over to where Robb had set up camp. Deciding she needed answers, she resorted to poking and prodding.

Lifting up the hem of his shirt up, Myrcella placed her icy cold hands on the warm skin of his waist. “Why do you care if I took Latin?!”

Robb yelped before falling out of his chair, the barrel and recoil spring of his handgun flying into the air. He scrambled onto his feet and glared at Myrcella. “Do  _not_  do that.”

Myrcella’s eyes widened in shock. “Robb Stark… are you… _ticklish_?”

Robb sent her a murderous look before gritted out. “ _No_!” Myrcella sniggered behind her hand as Robb reached down to pick up the discarded firearm parts that were slew across the floor.

“Right… okay, how about this, I won’t tell the entire public that Mr. Stoic Bodyguard is ticklish if you tell me why it matters if I took Latin or not. Ball’s in your court, Stark, what’s it going to be?”

Robb looked up and saw a smug expression grace Myrcella’s pale complexion and had the urge to wipe that grin from her face with not-so honorable means but instead he decided to take the high road. “You can bait all you want; I’m not going to bite.”

The young woman in front of him stared at him. Then, ever so slowly, a cunning smile spread across her face, eyes twinkled with mischief and Robb unconsciously fell into a defensive stance in case she decided to attack his sides again.

Myrcella chuckled then. “What are you so tense about?” Finally sighing, she shook her head in defeat, “You’re no fun, Stark. You don’t wanna tell me, fine. Just so you know, it’s not healthy to keep things from people. And besides…  don't you know? There are no secrets in this world.”

Robb looked up at her then, trying to figure out what she was getting at when a loud bang rang outside their window.

Robb’s hands flew to his second gun which was still assembled and sprang up to block Myrcella from any line of fire coming from the front of the motel room. Their ragged breath and the pounding of his heart filled his ears as his eyes scanned the across the room for any signs of danger. He turned to look over his shoulder at her before bringing a finger to his lips to signal her to keep quiet before he silently crept across the room to the window. Slowly pulling back the blinds, he saw Theon Greyjoy toeing the body of an unconscious demon in the parking lot. Robb felt a wave of relief before confusion crept up.  _What is he doing here?_

“What is it?” Myrcella whispered when Robb made no move to spring into action.

“It’s…” He trailed off when he sees none other than Patrek Mallister walking up to Theon while scratching the back of his head sheepishly and smiles apologetically. The Greyjoy shakes his head at him while pulling out his cell phone and making a call. “Theon and Patrek.” He says as Myrcella comes to stand beside him.

Theon who had been surveying the area for any more threats catches sight of them by the window. Patrek follows his gaze and waves at them only for Theon to smack his hand down and hiss something at him.

“What do you think he’s saying?”

Robb glanced away from Patrek flailing as he spoke of something that seemed important if one were to go by the way Theon was frowning. He bites down hard on his inner cheek willing the pain to replace the slight fluttering feeling that was wreaking havoc within his chest when he sees the small smile curving on Myrcella’s lips.

“They’re dragging the body away.”

Her words have him turning to look back out the window to see that Theon, Patrek nor the demon were nowhere in sight. He felt the hairs on the back on his neck rise as a gust of wind traveled through the room. Robb flicked the safety switch off the handgun he had yet to holster as he stands and turns in one swift move. He makes sure his body is in front of Myrcella’s crouched one and the barrel of the gun pointed directly at the intruder.

“Put it down Robb.” Theon grinned at him as he sat on the chair he had been occupying moments ago. His gaze moved to the disassembled handgun and began to reassemble it again as Robb lowered his handgun. Myrcella stood up but remained behind the Young Wolf. The Greyjoy had to give the girl credit, she was smart not to lower her guard. Not to say that he had any intention of hurting her, but it was good to know that she wouldn’t carelessly put herself in danger.

“What are you doing here with Patrek?”

“Well,” Theon dragged out the word as he finished assembling the gun and flicked the safety switch on before placing it on the table. “Your mother has sent us to spread the word to the other families. Something about them having to acknowledge alliances that have been made and they are to arm themselves to the teeth for the war has begun.”

“Then what happened out there?” Robb asked curiously.

“We noticed the demon a few miles back. I wasn’t attacking anyone or trying to attract attention. It seemed more like it was trying to track something or someone down because it kept stopping to sniff the air. We decided to follow it and it led us here.”

“Did you find who it was tracking?” Myrcella asked stepping out from behind Robb, but staying next to him. Her hand unconsciously grasped Robb’s sleeve.

“No.” Theon met her gaze. “Patrek’s finger slipped and accidently shot the demon.”

“I told him not to take the safety off.” Robb muttered, this wasn’t the first time Patrek’s finger slipped when it was on the trigger.

A knock on the door stops their conversation.


	4. Chapter 4

_A knock on the door stopped their conversation._

Robb turned on his heel once again placing himself in front of Myrcella as he looked at the door. His gun ready to be used at any moment as he took cautious steps toward the door.

“Come guys I know you’re in there.” Patrek knocked on the door more roughly. “Let me in it’s freezing!”

Robb not wanting to take any chance peered through the peephole to see that it was Patrek. He unlocked the door and opened it quickly before tugging him. He slammed it closed and shoved Patrek against it with the barrel of his gun pointed directly under his chin.

“What the hell Robb?!” Patrek exclaimed and tried to push the Stark away only to end up getting shoved against the door again. “Can you stop pointing that fucking gun at me?”

“Give me the words.” Robb hissed at him.

“Above all the rest,” He responded without hesitation. There were certain phrases the families would say to one another. After one of the Freys came across a demon that could take the persona of another, a code had to be invented to know that no other was impersonating them. The strange thing about the situation no other has crossed paths with a demon of that caliber. Then again perhaps they have, they just haven’t realized it yet. In the end Patrek could not fault the Young Wolf for taking precaution.

Robb put the gun away and stepped back, closer to Myrcella who had remained silent and instead let Robb handle the situation trusting him.

Patrek pushed away from the door and looked at Robb weary before making his way to Theon. “I hope he treated you just as roughly.”

“Nope.” Theon grinned at him. “He trusts me.”

“Fuck the both of you.” He glared at them before finally taking notice of Myrcella and looking at her embarrassed. “Excuse my language Ms…”

“Stark.” Myrcella quickly supplied when she noticed that Patrek did not recognize her. “Cecelia Stark.” She would have to grow accustom to using her alias the further north she went. It was better to start now then later.

Theon looked at her with new interest. She looked familiar, there was something familiar about her that to his demonic nature, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. He glanced between the determined looking Cecelia and the somewhat amused looking Robb.

“Oh…” Patrek looked between them. “I…” He looked at Robb. “Does your moth—” he cut himself off not wanting to seem nosy. “Congratulations?”

Theon shook his head, while Robb wrapped an arm around Myrcella’s shoulders. “Thank you.”

Myrcella wrapped an arm around Robb’s waist trying to ignore the way her stomach fluttered and the intense warming of her cheeks even more so when he pressed his lips against her temple playing the perfect role of a smitten husband.

“No wonder he was being viscous with me.” Patrek nudged Theon. “He was protecting his wife.”

“He can be very overprotective at times.” Myrcella said as she patted him on the chest and risked a glance at him to see the Young Wolf looking at her with a quirked eyebrow as if telling her ‘really?’. She moved her hand further up his chest over his shoulder to his nape. Her fingertips touched the ends of his auburn curls, they were soft. When he made no move to pull away or stop her she became boulder and stroked his curls. She felt more than heard the rumble from deep within his chest.

Patrek seeing an intimate moment about to take place, as Robb was no longer glancing at his wife, but practically staring at her and was leaning down closer to her, quickly grabbed Theon by the arm and tugged him forcefully to his feet. “We need to leave.” He whispered to him. “Clearly we are interrupting their honeymoon.”

Theon could have argued with him and told him that if that were the case Robb would have not been looking out the window or opening the door, but then again Cecelia had mentioned Robb being protective of her. Not even the Greyjoy could deny it when his best friend pointed a gun at him. “Fine.” He followed Patrek and once at the door he cleared his throat not feeling guilty that he might have cockblocked his best friend in his honeymoon. “Whatever the demon had been following lead him here. I have no doubt more will come to finish what their buddy wasn’t able to. I suggest you take your bride to Winterfell asap. Winter solstice is upon us and the last thing you want to do is be far away from your family even more so now with the war starting.” With that said he gave them both a wave and strolled out the room while whistling a merry tune with the door closing behind him.

 

* * *

 

Jaime knew something was wrong the moment he got a call from Tyrion demanding him to go Storm’s End instead of the Wall like Cersei had told him that Robert wanted. He walked at a fast pace through stairs and several halls not stopping once until he reached Robert Baratheon’s study. He pushed open the doors hearing his father’s, Tyrion’s and Joffrey’s voices.

“It’s good to see you have arrived my darling older brother.” Tyrion said from his seat with thinly veiled annoyance.

Jaime looked from his younger brother to his father who looked exasperated and then his nephew who was pacing the room back and forth.

“Maybe you can convince our nephew that a full frontal assault against hell is suicide.”     

              

* * *

 

The door closed, and Robb snatched his body away from her like an electric shock. “You’d better pack up,” he said, without looking at her.

“What, are we leaving now?” she replied, disappointed. It was still early, and she had hoped to get a couple more hours’ sleep before they set off again.

“Patrek shot a demon, which means his compadres will be crawling all over the place soon,” he explained, “We don’t want to catch rush hour anyway.”

Myrcella laughed spasmodically at the ridiculousness of Robb’s statement: the dual problems of demons and traffic were so bizarre that soon she was in fits of giggles, and Robb was looking at her strangely.

“I hear the M25 is packed with hellhounds of a morning,” she snorted, and Robb shook his head but his face split into a thin smile.

“Get a move on,” he said, and Myrcella nipped into the bathroom.

As she rinsed her face in the sink, she heard muffled sounds, but it wasn’t until she turned off the tap that she realised Robb was on the phone. She knew she probably shouldn’t, but she couldn’t resist staying silent and eavesdropping.

“…well he can’t have her. I was given this job and I’ll see it out, even if it-“ he sighed heavily, “-If it  _kills_  me.”

There was a long pause.

“What? That’s insane,” he spat, “Why would her blood be any different to Joffrey or Tommen’s?”

Myrcella heard a thud, which made her jump a mile. It could only be… Robb hitting the wall?

“Fine. Goodbye. I’ll talk to you soon.”

She finished washing and came out of the bathroom, giving Robb a long look as though he might explain who he was on the phone to, but he just glanced at her and said, “You ready?”

 

* * *

 

At midday it started snowing. “Welcome to the North,” Robb said, smiling slightly. But fifteen minutes later, they could hardly see the road ahead through the windscreen. Robb pulled over in a quiet lane and switched off the engine.

“It shouldn’t last long,” he said, and took off his seatbelt.

They sat in silence for a little while, until finally Myrcella plucked up the courage to speak.

“Robb?” she said, which came out as a hideous, embarrassing croak so she coughed to clear her throat as he turned to look at her, “Nice acting back there.”

His high cheeks reddened, and he looked down. “Yeah, you too.”

“I’m only teasing,” she said, “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged.

“I thought Theon Greyjoy was your friend, anyway,” she said, “Your two names always come up together.”

“He is, sort of,” Robb said, meeting her eyes again, “You see, he’s actually sort of… my dad’s ward, so he didn’t have much choice but to be my friend.”

Myrcella smiled sadly. “Nearly everyone around me is paid to be there by my dad.”

Robb looked uncomfortable for a moment, and then said, meaningfully, “Doesn’t mean they don’t want to be there.”

A genuine smile spread across Cella’s face, but just at that moment, there was a thud on the roof of the car.

“What was that?” Cella whispered, eyes wide.

The scraping of claws told her before Robb could.

“ _Demon._ ”

As quickly as the claws had made a sound, they were suddenly gone. The car was deadly quiet, the only sound was the quiet whimpers that involuntarily left Myrcella’s throat and the quick click of Robb’s gun as he took of the safety. 

"Robb," Myrcella whispered, tears silently leaving her eyes as she despretly tried to compose herself. Robb put a finger to his lips, signaling to stay quiet. His hand moved to unclasp his seatbelt when the car suddenly lurched forward.

"Robb!" Myrcella cried as the car then moved backwards, forwards, up, until the car was suddenly toppling over and rolling across the road as if it was nothing more than a toy rather than steel and engine. 

Myrcella suddenly felt a blinding pain in her head as she moved around like a helpless doll, she was momentarily blinded as she tried to get a grip on her bearings.

The car suddenly came to a stop and from how Myrcella’s hair flowed out in front of her she knew they had ended up upside down. She could feel a trail of liquid make it’s way down the side of her face, from her hairline and she cringed as the familiar sense of foreboding settled in her stomach. 

"Myrcella!’Cella, can you hear me!" 

Myrcella slowly turned her head to see Robb trying to get her attention, a frantic look in his eye as he reached over to cup the side of her face that she knew was sticky with blood. He was saying something but she couldn’t process everything he said; gods her head hurt. 

His touch was soft despite the rough texture of his hand and Myrcella wondered how Robb Stark could continue to interest her, even after getting her head bashed against a car window.

“‘Cella, come on sweetling, we have to get you out of here.” He said softly, as if trying to coax a small animal out of hiding and Myrcella found herself nodding her agreement as Robb rid himself of his seatbelt and hers.

 

* * *

 

"You have no right. I demand that my sister be returned South!"

Margaery Tyrell watched silently as her betrothed continued to berate Ned Stark and the rest of the men seated around his table as he sought council. She looked to her brother Loras, who was clutching his phone harshly in his grip, and she raised a brow in interest. Her brother had never been one to show frustration in public, and she already had an inkling that she knew Renly Baratheon was some how to blame. Despite opening their home to his family, Renly had yet to make an appearance in High Garden, had not even sent a message declining their offer.

Margaery returned her focus to Joffrey as Ned stark started to speak.

"You must understand, your grace. Your father himself had requested these arrangements and at this point orders can not be changed. The North is safe, the princess is safe."

Margaery watched as Joffrey raged in his seat, disregarding his grandfather’s disapproving look as he stood up and slammed a hand down on the table before him. “My father is dead. You and I know this Stark,” he hissed the surname as if it pained him to pronounce it. “He is dead and you were meant to keep him alive. How can you expect me to believe that my sister will not meet the same fate.”

The room watched as Ned stark tensed, if only for a second, at the mention of his fallen friend, his best friend, his brother. Despite the viciousness in which he spoke, the boy spoke the truth, Robert should be alive and drinking, laughing and joking despite the severity of their situation. however, Robert was nothing more than a corpse now, his soul gone from his body and Ned would carry that with him until he too met his own end.

Perhaps it was selfish what he said next, to put so much weight upon his own son’s shoulders, to task him with a duty that in the end he was not able to complete. But he knew Robb would finish what he could not, he and Jon, they would make the North proud.

"I assure you, your grace," Ned’s voice was taut as a bow string and almost all the room stilled as the solemn man rose from his seat at the table. He looked to Joffrey, the blonde boy watching with cautious eyes, and he stared him down. "The Young Wolf will not fail you."

Margaery watched along with the rest of the room as Ned Stark silently, proudly, walked out of the room. She silently sent a prayer to the seven, _may the Young Wolf succeed and keep Myrcella safe._

* * *

 

Myrcella woke up to the sounds of indistinct voices and a throbbing pain that pulsated across her temple as well as a sharp pain in her wrist. She gave a weak groan before she turned her head towards the voices. She only caught pieces of the conversation, as if she was listening to the words from under water.

“Easy, there. We don’t want to upset your head.” Came the voice right above her head. There was a light shining right into her left eye before it moved to the other side.

“Too bright…” she mumbled.

The voice chuckled softly. “Yes, I was just checking for a concussion. Hello, Cecelia, I am Doctor Luwin, personal physician to the Stark family. Seeing as you are now part of the family as well, I will be your primary doctor from now on.” Myrcella eye’s shot open when she realized that she was no longer inside a car being turned into a metal burrito. She looked up and saw an elderly man with a kind face and a tweed coat with brown slacks.

“I’m going to ask you a series of questions. Do you think you’re up to answering them for me?” He asked softly.

Myrcella nodded.

“Okay. Could you please state your full name for me?”

Myrcella caught herself before automatically giving her real name and then replied slowly, “Cecelia Stark.”

“Do you remember what day today is?”

Myrcella thought for a moment before she looked out the window at the morning sky. It was snowing outside. “Today… would be Sunday.”

“Good. Now, do you remember where you were before you blacked out?”

She closed her eyes and the flash of a demon’s grotesque face made her jolt. “Robb…” Myrcella turned to Doctor Luwin and cleared her throat before clearly stating, “I was with Robb. Is he alright?”

“I’m fine.”A new voice entered the conversation. Robb strode into the room and immediately came to sit on the bed next to Myrcella, taking her hand into his large warm ones.

She felt her cheeks flush involuntarily.

“How is she doc?”

Doctor Ludwin gave a satisfied nod before he reached over for her file on the night stand. “She’s fine, considering the circumstanced you brought her to me in. It seems like all the tests came back negative so, other than her sprained wrist,” he looked up from her charts and gave her a small smile, “you should be up and about in a little over a week. Not a day sooner though. And nothing  _strenuous_.” He emphasized to Robb with a glint in his eyes before he turned his attention back to Myrcella. “We’ll have Mrs. Mordane bring some food up for you. Get some rest, dear.”

“Thank you, Doctor Luwin.” Myrcella said earnestly.

He nodded and then slipped out of the room.

Robb pulled back then and rose to stand next to the window, looking out into the white yard out back. As if it had been a great burden to admit that it was so, Robb’s voice quivered slightly as he spoke. “We – we were…  _really_  lucky there were only two of them last night.”

Myrcella gritted her teeth as she tried to push aside the pain in her head. “I thought the point of the new identities and the fake story and the immediate relocation was to prevent what happened last night from happening.”

Robb turned to her, his face held hard lines, tension apparent on his handsome features. “What happened last night was inevitable. All the precautions that we’ve taken up to this point was to delay the on-coming storm, not forestall it completely. To lessen the blow when it comes and allow us to have the home-field advantage.”

Myrcella swallowed, “Why are they after me? My father has nothing to do with the underworld anymore. Why would they care about what happens to me?”

Robb sighed with a heavy heart, not able to meet her questioning gaze. “I don’t know.”

Somehow Myrcella doubt that was the case because Robb always seemed like he was only giving her scraps of information, never the whole picture.

White sleet came down in a flurry of cold as he stood uneasily next to the bed. When he looked at her then, his eyes were an electric blue, a shade of conviction that had Myrcella shivering under his gaze. “What I  _do_ know is that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

Robb pulled up the sheets and pushed a strand of hair from her face. “Are you hungry?”

Myrcella shook her head, the pull of fatigue clouding her vision.

“Okay, just sleep for now. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Robb’s voice faded into the background as she drifted off into a restless sleep.

 

* * *

 

Myrcella woke up with a jerk and regretted it immediately; her sprained wrist took a good portion of her weight when she lifted herself off the bed in shock. It was the same nightmare that had been plaguing her for the last three nights; ever since she had gone out that night with her friends. It was as if the grotesque and obscene images became more vivid as the days go by. She didn’t know what they meant but she did seem to realize the correlation between her dreams and traveling with Robb, as if to warn her of the impending danger that was closing in on her from all sides.

Her breath came out ragged puffs as the rhythmic breathing next to her continued. Myrcella turned to see Robb fast asleep next to her, his cheek tucked into the curve of his elbow. It couldn’t have possibly been a comfortable position to be in but she didn’t want to seem too forward by offering to share the bed with him. It wasn’t like they were really married…

She scooted closer to him before she allowed herself to truly study him. The first thing her eyes always fall on were his coppery red curls. Allowing herself a moment of weakness, Myrcella reached forward to sink her fingers into his downy soft hair. Just as she was starting to enjoy the feel of his hair in her hand, a hand shot out and caught her wrist. 

She froze in shock before he spoke, voice heavy with sleep.

"What are you doing?" He hadn’t moved, other than his hand at her wrist, he was still completely relaxed, which she was thankful for as she’d rather not meet his gaze in a moment like that.

"I was just… c-curious," she stammered, "I’m sorry, your hair just looks really soft." She knew how ridiculous it sounded, even to her, but what good excuse could there be to petting his hair while he slept?  

To her surprise, he started to laugh, a low chuckle making him shake as he dropped his hand and started to sit up, “Really?” He almost groaned, rubbing his palm against his eyes, “That’s the best you can managed to come up with?” He smiled at her, eyes filled with mirth.

She swallowed, sitting and pulling up her knees, hugging them to her chest. “Well, if it’s so bad, what would your excuse have been?” she asked him childishly.

"I wouldn’t need one, because I wouldn’t get caught," he grinned teasingly, making her flush for more than one reason, "If you can’t be sure you’ll not get caught, then you should at least have an excuse." He yawned, making her feel bad for waking him.

"Surely you can’t always be so sure you won’t get caught," she muttered, making him chuckle at her annoyance.

"You never caught me before," he teased, making her blush as she understood his words.

"Well so much for being just my bodyguard…" she looked away

"I’m also pretending to be your husband, but in truth I was just bluffing Cella, I’m not a creep." he smiled reassuringly.

"Does that mean  _I_  am?” she raised her brow.

"Didn’t say that…" he smiled up at her.

For a moment she thought he was about to kiss her, then he simply stood up, frowning as he turned away to look at the window.

"Is something wrong?" she asked him quietly, wondering what had just happened.

"No, it’s just…" he sighed before turning back to her, "We shouldn’t do this. I know why you were touching my hair, I’m not stupid or blind, but we musn’t be like that." he explained, his voice firm with conviction, "I’m your bodyguard Cella, if I become any more than that, it could be troublesome." 

"How exactly would it be troublesome? One thing doesn’t exactly annulate the other, it could even make it better" she frowned at him, confused why he’d flirt as he had only to be like this afterwards.

"Just… trust me… it’s for the best…" he insisted, though his eyes showed that affection he claimed to be impossible.

She glared at him for a moment, before pulling on the sheets and laying on the bed, her back to him. She wasn’t sure what angered her most, the fact she liked him and he said it couldn’t happen, or the fact he had said that even when it was clear he felt the same.

 

* * *

 

"Marg?"

Margery turned her head to look at her brother, surprised to hear his voice after being so quiet during the whole meeting and the dinner that followed. ”Yeah?” She stopped the hand that was brushing through his curls,

"Can I tell you something?"

She smiled down at the head on her lap though he wasn’t looking at her.

"If it’s the fact you and Renly are in love, don’t worry, I’ve known that for ages." She took a sip of her wine.

"It’s not that…"

The lack of reaction from her comment made her still; it wasn’t like her brother to ignore her teasing.

"What is it?" she asked, her tone serious.

"Last we talked… Renly had said something and I didn’t think much of it then, but now it got me thinking…"

She frowned down at her brother though her tone was light,  ”What did he say?”

He didn’t move an inch, but what he said made her pause, “He said, as if he was thinking out loud,  _'why on earth would it be a good idea to take the princess north… if that's were the doors of hell are, why would she be safe there?'_  That’s when I realized… she wouldn’t… and the only one who’s ever suggested for her go there is that red bitch…”

They were both silent for a moment. No one liked Melisandre, but no one could deny she knew magic.

"Do you think she’s a traitor of some kind?" she asked quietly, even though the room was empty, save for them.

"All I know is that something is  _wrong_  about her… she’s not a good person… that much is clear.”


	5. Chapter 5

Myrcella had been quiet –  _weirdly_  quiet – all day. It made him nervous.

And while he supposed he knew the reason, he couldn’t help but wonder why. His argument had been reasonable enough.  There had been no room for offense. She was his client, and these were dangerous times. If something was to change between them, and his judgement was impaired, he knew it wouldn’t end well – for either of them.

No, it was better this way.

But that didn’t stop him from looking, from thinking, from wishing…

No, it was better this way.

He watched her, silently, from where he stood, knowing he could not be seen. Her bandaged wrist was clutched close to her as she sat, curled up on the window seat, with her nose buried in the same book she had been reading all morning.

It was one of Bran’s books, filled with only the good stories of eternal winters and of scary monsters which beat the knights and the heroes in the end.

She looked so content, sitting there, that he smiled, if only just for a moment.

With an inward sigh, he pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning against for longer than he liked to admit, and looked away from the sight of Myrcella by the window.

It was better this way, he told himself as he trudged through the snow. It was better this way, he told himself up until he reached the Godswood. He could not lie there. He could not lie to the Gods.

 

* * *

 

Three drops was all it took, and with each droplet of blood the flames consumed, the fires grew. The fires thirsted for king’s blood.  _As we all do,_  Melisandre smiled.

She stepped away from the flames as they grew, watching and waiting for her call to be answered.

“Lord,” she called to the fire, “cast your light upon me.”

The fire spat embers as the smoke rose, rising higher and higher into the night sky. Her eyes sought out her king, knowing that he would be near, but she could not see him in the darkness.

“Lord!” She cried out again. “Cast your light upon me!”

And her lord answered her.   

As she drew close, she saw in the fire what it was she had been seeking. The flames offered her only a taste, a brief flicker of both the present and the future but it was enough for her to know and for her to understand.

She saw the child, whose blood held immeasurable amounts of power. The child – the golden haired princess who the fires had fed her so many visions of – unwittingly wielded in her blood more power than a king.

And with the girl, she saw also the forces which guarded her, the unsuspecting few who had no idea that what she was was not something to be shielded, but something to be used, a force which should be released upon the world…

She saw fire and blood, and she looked from the flames with a slow smile spreading across her face, knowing that what she saw was only the beginning.

The fire crackled softly, stilling her movements as she began to turn away to find her king, and in the crackling she heard a single, whispered name. 

 _Stark,_ the fires told her.

He was all which stood in her way.

 

* * *

 

Robb had, on multiple occasions, wondered how his mother instinctively knew when he was in need of guidance. With his father still in the South with Joffrey and Cersei, Catelyn’s support was invaluable. Sitting in his father’s favorite spot in the Godswood, beneath the Heart tree overlooking a large hot spring, was where Catelyn found him pensively gazing into the dark depths of the steaming pool.

“Despite popular belief, I don’t think the brooding look is working for you?” Robb looked up at his mother to see her purse her mouth in mock disapproval, “Your smile makes you look much more handsome.”

The corners of Robb’s mouth tugged upwards for a split second before falling into a frown once again.

“Sorry. I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

“Is that why you’re avoiding your wife?”

Robb couldn’t help but blush at the word;  _wife_. Such a strange notion. He should be doing a better job at selling the cover story but it was hard enough keeping things professional between them without the complications of his warring heart.

He heard his mother softly sigh before she sat down next to him and placed a hand on his. “Nothing rectifies a lover’s quarrel quite like talking it over a nice cup of tea. Well, at least, that’s the case for your father and I. But you young kids would probably be happier if you’re not cooped up in this old estate.”

Robb looked over to his mother, his confusion at where she was going with this apparent on his face.

“Why don’t you take her out Christmas shopping. She looks like she needs to get out of the house for a little bit.” Catelyn said. “The snow is letting up, finally, and the outlet isn’t that busy today since it’s a week day so you’ll be able to better manage the area. Besides, it’ll only be for a few hours.”

“Are you sure we’ll be, alright?”

Catelyn beamed at him with pride before saying with such conviction, “With you protecting her, she’ll have nothing to worry about. I can attest to that.”

 

* * *

 

Wintertown’s outlet was a little over 15 minutes away from the estate which was commuted in silence. Robb wasn’t sure how he was going to speak to Myrcella about what had transpired the night before but he was not prepared for when she was the one with the guts to breach the subject.

“Could at least tell me why?” She asked as they were stuck at a stop light. “Just so that I can understand.”

Robb inhaled deeply before he exhaled through his lips. “Security detailing is… a family endeavor, so to speak; we’ve been doing for generations. A few months before she was going to marry your father, my aunt Lyanna had been assigned to protect a client by the name of Rhaegar Targaryen.” The light turned green and Robb drove for a bit before continuing, “All was well at first. Then one day, she simply went radio silent… and your father… well, Robert thought the worst.”

“He thought that your aunt left him for her client.”

Robb silence told her she was right. “A few weeks later, my father and his associate, Holland Reed, found my aunt, half dead in a safe house in the Dornish mountain. There were rumors that Rhaegar was being hunt down by not only your father’s men but Greyjoys and Lannisters alike. The demons of hell were stirring because there was a struggle for power all because a demon and an agent of heaven fell in love.

“In the end, it didn’t matter who killed them; they all ended up dead. Aunt Lyanna died just as my father got to her and Rhaegar was killed by the hand of your father.”

Myrcella stared ahead blankly, processing what he had just told her.

“So… you’re afraid that the whole of the universe would go all wonky because you and I might or might not actually have feeling for each other?” Myrcella chuckled. “And here I thought you were actually engaged to someone and didn’t want to have complications down the road.”

Robb snorted. “I barely have time to sleep let alone date. This job is demanding and is not ideal for serious relationships.”

“Well, I’m sure that if your partner were aware of the struggles, she would be understanding of the constraints of your position.” Myrcella insisted.

Robb shook his head in defeat but smirked despite his exasperation. “There is just no winning with you, is there?”

Myrcella shrugged. “I believe that if you want to make something work, you have to be willing to fight for it.”

Robb looked over to her then. Feeling his gaze on her, Myrcella allowed herself to look at him and in those few seconds, as if an understanding passed between them, they smiled.

 

* * *

 

 Christmas music played merrily outside as people dressed festively bustled about with their bags filled with gifts waiting patiently to be taken home and wrapped up. As they made their way through the thin crowd of holiday shoppers, Robb’s eyes fell to the jewelry store and just remembered that he had the “wedding ring” that he was suppose to give Myrcella in his jacket pocket.

“We need to go in to get your ring sized.”

The fitting didn't take very long, but the jeweler did ask them for a few hours to fix the ring. They decided to spend the afternoon in the outlet and pick up the ring later on before going back to the estate. This was what his mother had suggested after all, to spend some time with her, outside the house. He had to admit, after their conversation something had changed between them. He felt closer to her, even if they were only held hands, he felt comfortable with her, there wasn't that distance between them anymore.

They spent the rest of the day in doing what he felt would be the expected on a normal date. He helped her choose new clothes, more fitting for the harsh winter of the north, or at least he thought she was listening to his answers whenever she asked for his opinion. They laughed after a slightly embarrassing discussion about who’d pay for the clothes, he had paid in the end, but only because she realized that her purse had been lost in the accident. They even ate some ice cream, the sweetness of the dessert being too alluring for the cold temperatures to make them change their minds. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this happy, this free. She was still his client, but he didn't feel the weight of responsibility anymore. He was happy to be there with her, truly happy, more than he ever thought possible. 

He was so happy by her side that he failed to notice how the number of people in the outlet had grown in the last hour, not until he turned his head unconsciously, meeting eyes that gleamed in the darkening dusk.

 

* * *

 

"Open the door!" Renly demanded "You have nowhere to run Stannis, this is the end for you and that traitorous red bitch of yours!"

It seemed that their headquarters had been turned upside-down from night to day. Though he had tried to talk to his brother, make him see that Melisandre was lying, tricking them into doing the exact opposite of what they should, he had been stubborn and refused to listen. 

He had tried to contact the Lannisters and Starks but neither the radio or the phone were working properly. Now he was standing outside his brother’s door with his best men, hoping Stannis would hand himself and his red bitch over peacefully. He wasn't sure whether or not his brother was involved in her treason, but he’d rather be safe and sorry. “Stannis if you don’t open the door we’ll break it down! Open it, NOW!”

Without a sound the door opened own it’s own, they rushed inside, Loras to his right and Brienne to his left as the other four guards scanned the room. The lights were all out except for the fire in the old fireplace and it seemed like there was no one inside. He was starting to lower his guard when an eerie female voice came from fire.  _"Well done Renly, well done indeed…too bad you’re too late."_ The voice laughed darkly  _"Too late to get your brother back…too late to save your niece…too late indeed"_  As if waiting for some following command, dark fiery being sprung up from all around the room, surrounding their small group in the center of the chamber.

' _May the Gods have mercy on our souls'_   Renly thought as all Hell broke loose around them **.**

 

* * *

 

Robb turned to Myrcella, grabbing her hand tightly in his before sprinting further into a crowd of shoppers. 

"Robb!" Myrcella shouted at him as they nearly knocked into an elderly couple. "What the hell are you doing?"

"We have to keep moving." He replied, just before making a quick turn that would lead them back to where they had parked the car. They slowed down as they neared the vehicle, the quickly fading sun giving off an ominous glow and the newly turned on streetlights reminding Myrcella of the very first night she met Robb.

Robb moved to open the car door when the horrible screech of bending metal assaulted their ears. They turned around to see a pair of hollow, red eyes and sharp white fangs scrutinizing them. The demon started to circle it’s prey and Robb quickly maneuvered Myrcella behind him, his eyes never leaving the demon’s form as the monster started to sniff the air. It’s eyes landed on Myrcella, it’s mouth opening wide and saliva starting to form at the corner’s of it’s mouth.

"B-b-blood." The demon hissed in broken tongue, it’s voice distorted and guttural. 

Myrcella clutched at the back of Robb’s coat at the sound, she had never heard a demon speak before and the sound was even more horrifying than she could imagine. It continued to watch her, completely ignoring Robb as he moved to pull out his gun. 

At the slight movement the demon pounced aiming straight for Myrcella but collided in Robb’s chest instead. Myrcella screamed as she heard the tearing of clothes and the sight of blood as Robb fought to keep the demon from sinking it’s teeth into his flesh as he had just done with his claws. 

She could feel the fear closing in on her, like walls of a room she could not escape. In her panic she turned away from the sight, scared for Robb and scared for herself. At the sound of Robb’s scream she quickly turned back around, just in time to see the demon dig his claws painfully into Robb’s back, his flesh shredding from the pressure. 

It was as if time had slowed down and she was suddenly watching Robb decapitate the demon’s head on the night she met him. The gleam of his forgotten knife caught her eye and on impulse she ran to clutch it in her hands. In an instant it was raised and the demon slumped to the ground as the bullet went straight through it’s skull. 

There was no sound, just the sound of Robb’s heavy pants as he shoved the corpse off his body and a heavy thud as Myrcella’s form hit the ground.

"Myrcella!" Robb hissed as he quickly moved towards her, his muscles crying in pain as he forced himself to reach her.

The silence that met him, chilled him to the bone.

 

* * *

 

He awoke with a blood curling scream, all he saw was white in front of his eyes as his body trashed and trashed. Hands rushed to keep him in place, in order to tranquilize him but all he could focus on was the white fading to black.

"Gods help us all!" He cried, tears escaping his eyes as the prick of a syringe met his arms and sleep cocooned him in it’s warm embrace once again. 

"Myrcella.. the north.. isn’t safe," He pleaded one last time before his eyes closed again, hoping someone would hear him. 

No one did.

Except for a snow white wolf and the shadow it followed. 

 

* * *

 

The day had started off well for the most part. She had hoped that in such a bleak time some good would come. Her eldest son being married was a surprise. He had a way of doing things and yet it was rare for Robb to ever keep anything from her, but when he did it was with good reason.  

Catelyn even while contemplating Robb kept a careful watch over Rickon and Bran, who  were outside as Shaggydog ran around restless and Summer sat beside his owner staring up at the dark grey sky.

“You can’t just barge in!”

She pivoted to face the door of Ned’s study as it was slammed open by none other than Cersei Lannister. “It’s fine.” She said to the guard that had tried to stop the woman from entering. “Let her in.”

The man glared at Cersei as he retreated and closed the door behind him.

Catelyn from across the room could feel the anger radiate from Cersei, but it was not the anger that concerned her, it was the worry she saw in the demoness’ gaze. For a moment she regrets letting Robb go out with his wife. “What is it?”

“I have lost contact with Stannis and Melisandre.”

“Surely they—”

“No.”Cersei said sharply. “I heard Renly came to pay him a visit, but they didn’t end in good terms.”

“Those two never do.” It was no secret that the Baratheon brothers did not get along.

“But I never heard before of Renly ever hunting down Stannis.”

“You don’t think he would kill him…”

“No.” Cersei said without hesitation. “Renly is not a killer.”  _Nor a kinslayer._ She knew Renly for years, they may not see eye to eye and there were multiple times Cersei grew annoyed with him and the only reason she put up with him was because Myrcella and Tommen loved him. She knew that from all of the Baratheon brothers Renly was the kindest and the most loved. He was the one that kept in contact with the other families when Robert could not be bothered with it and Stannis was unapproachable. They needed him alive. “I called in for reinforcements.”

Before Catelyn could respond a knock of the door disrupted their conversation. The same man that had tried to stop Cersei opened the door. “Jon has arrived and would like an audience with you.”

“Send him in.”

The man motioned for Jon to walk in before stepping out the room again and closing the door.

Catelyn could already see that something was troubling Jon greatly. “What has happened?”  

“Renly has been severely injured. Stannis and Melisandre are missing.” Jon glanced at Cersei who let out a curse before looking back at his stepmother. “Is Robb here?”

“No, he took Cecilia Christmas shopping.”

Jon lost his composure as he bit back a curse and ran out the room as if the hounds of hell were on his heels.

 

* * *

 

Robb leaned his forehead against Myrcella’s temple letting her warmth melt the dread that pooled in the pit of his stomach. Every breath she took reassured him that she was alive even though she was unconscious. His hand shook as he buckled her in. The darkness in the corners of his vision was engulfing the light. Pain raked his body making it hard to breath, to stand.

He needed to get them out of there for they were still in the open. _Damn it!_ Shaking his head only made it worse.  _Focus!_ His gaze fell onto Myrcella’s face. She looked vulnerable, he needed to protect her, he wanted her to be safe. He couldn’t use his cell phone which had been crushed during his altercation with the demon. Robb reached blindly into the glove compartment. His clumsily grabbed a small black pack and struggled with pulling the zipper to open it. In the end he had to use his teeth to tug the zipper. He looked down at the syringe and vial filled with adrenaline hopelessly as his heart slowed.

Robb needed to close his mind to the pain to make it out alive.  _Concentra—_ He felt more than heard something behind him. Before he could react a hand clasped his shoulder forcing him to turn around. A lean woman with short dark colored hair and eyes frowned at him. She looked familiar but he couldn’t pinpoint from where as the world around him tilted on its axis. “Don’t…” he protested weakly as she took the pack from his hand.

“Shut it.” She growled. “I do the talking and you fucking listen.”

Even weakened Robb positioned his body in front of Myrcella’s unconscious form.

“The winter solstice is tomorrow and you have painted a target on your back by protecting her.”

Robb fought to keep his knees from crumbling under his weight.

“Tell Eddard Stark that the Greyjoys are not responsible for this. Balon is dead, there is no King of Hell.”

He felt a sharp jab on his thigh.  After what felt like an eternity his heart began pumping stronger and his vision cleared. Robb greedily took air into his lungs.

“Consider this a thank you to Eddard for keeping Theon alive instead of killing him like the Targaryens. Now I aim to get my brother back.”

It was then Robb was able to realize who was standing in front of him. He had heard of her, the Princess of Hell. “…Asha…” Before he could say or doing anything she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, slammed Myrcella’s car door closed before man handling him to the driver’s side.

“Get back to Winterfell and keep her safe there. If you think this is the beginning, you have seen nothing yet.” She informed him grimly. “This is but a taste of what’s to come. The winter solstice will set the other demons plans in motion.”

“What do you mean? I thought they were already in motion.”

“This was them just testing out their competition.” Her grin was feral. “When the Wall falls, that is the beginning.”

“The beginning?”

“The beginning of the end.”

 

* * *

 

Her eyes flickered open in stages, like she was blinking rather than waking from a natural sleep. A blurred face appeared before her, and before it came into focus, the pain hit. She moaned, low and guttural, and a hand grasped her shoulder.

"Come on, Cecelia," the figure said, and she caught a flash of red as the face turned to look to its right. "Nearly there."

"Where’s… Robb?" she managed to pant, and the girl didn’t answer. "Robb…" she moaned, "Oh, Robb…"

A few seconds, and then the ground stopped moving. She hadn’t noticed it was moving before.

Footsteps, and then warm hands around her shoulders.

"I’m here, Cella," he whispered, "I’m here."

Her eyes finally focused, and her hands crept along his neck in kangaroo jumps until they cradled his face.

"What happened?"

 

* * *

 

In the front of the van, Jon’s phone rang. He picked it up, Ygritte looking at him with her stable, concerned face.

"Cat?" he said.

_"Have you found them?"_

"Yes, we’re on our way back."

" _Are they alright?"_

"Some minor injuries, but they’ll be fine."

" _Jon… just get back here. ASAP."_

"I know. We’re running out of time."

He hung up, and Ygritte clutched his hand across space.

 

* * *

 

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, hands clinging to cheeks, the sole contact they needed, the sole root she needed to the ground.

"Cella," he whispered eventually, and then his hands released her and his tone went businesslike. "We’re going back to Winterfell, you’ll be safe there. It’s old and safe: it has a protective shield against demons."

"I’m safe as long as I’m with you." She murmured.

Robb couldn’t help a sad little smile.

"Look, Robb, when all of this is over-" she pouted at his incredulous look, "-I want us to… still be… friends."

"Of course," he said, breaking his professionalism, "We’ve been through too much to just imagine it never happened."

"Robb!" Jon shouted from the front, and the van came to a stop. "Come here  _now!"_

Robb leaned over, and gasped aloud.

"The force-field's red…" he muttered.

"It’s blocking us out." Jon filled in, looking at Myrcella with terror in his eyes.

Robb turned to her. "It’s too late anyway... you're already starting to change."


End file.
